24 Notes
by TourDeShore
Summary: Bella Cullen recieves the news that no Army wife wants to receive, her husband has been killed in action. She and her family must do the hardest thing, bury a loved one.


**This story was inspried by _Eyes of Fort Bragg: A Photo Essay_ written by Mitchael Graff in the June 2010 issue of Our State Magazine. There was one picture taken by Stephine Bruce of a lone bugler playing "Taps" at a military funeral. This story is about the hurt and pain that comes when you have to say goodbye to someone you love. And the 24 notes that the bugler plays can move almost anyone to tears. Read and Enjoy**

_He has exactly 24 notes to play. He can make no mistakes. There is no second chance. He plays for the solider, killed in action. He plays for the family, clutching a flag folded in to a triangle, stars showing. He plays "Taps," a powerful and haunting song as synonymous with patriotism as "The Star-Spangled Banner." He is the bugler. _

I was outside in our backyard on a beautiful day in April, Anthony and Masen had just got home from school and were playing in the tree house that their father had built for them the last time he was on leave. I twirled my wedding ring on my ring finger in thought of their father, who was overseas serving our country in Iraq. It has been almost two years since the last time we saw him, and all three of us were looking forward to his homecoming in three short weeks. That's when I heard it, the knock at the door. _That's odd,_ I thought to myself, _who could it be at 3:30 in the afternoon? _I made my way slowly through the house and as I approached the front door I could hear two men quietly talking to each other on the front porch. It was probably kids from the high school selling raffle tickets or something. I opened the door to the last two men I wanted to see. There on our front porch stood two Army officers dressed in the dress uniforms. A thousands different things ran through my head, none of them good.

"May I help you gentlemen," I said, trying to keep my voice under control.

"Are you Mrs. Isabella Cullen?" one of the men asked.

"Yes I am," I said quietly.

"Mrs. Cullen, we are here on behalf of the United States Army to regrettable inform you that Sergeant First Class Edward A.M. Cullen was killed in action in Iraq on April 11th 2010." And with those words my word came crashing down around me. My husband of 10 years was gone. I was never going to get to hold him in my arms, never going to get to kiss him again. My two sons were going to grow up without a father. How could this happen to me? I collapsed to the ground as the sobs shook through my body. All I could think was he was gone.

One of the men quickly dropped to his knees in front of me. "I'm sorry," was all he said as he helped me up off the ground. They let me know that the casket would be coming in tomorrow at 4 pm and gave me a number of the funeral services on base. I nodded my head before shutting the door. Once the door was closed a fresh set of tears started to fall. I stood there with my back against the door and cried.

I felt a tug on my pants. I looked down to see my youngest son Masen staring up with me with sad eyes, with his brother behind him. "Is mommy okay," he said in a small voice.

I picked him up and hugged him close to my body. "Mommy is just a little sad sweetheart," I said, trying to keep the tears at bay. How do you tell your 8 year old and 5 year old sons that Daddy wasn't coming home? I hugged him tight once more then set him down on his feet and patted his brother on the head. "You two go back outside to play, Mommy has to call someone," I said with a weak smile. I made sure that they were outside before I walked into the living and picked up the phone. I dialed my parent's number and waited for them to pick up.

"Hello?" my mother answered. When she did all I could do was burst into to tears. "Bella is that you? Bella what's wrong," she asked, concern rising in her voice.

"He's gone," I kept repeating, like the more times I said the more it would sink in.

"I'll be right over," she said as she hung up the phone.

I sat there silent for ten minutes until I heard the front door open.

"Bella?" my mother's voice sounded the empty house. I couldn't even make a sound, and she found my there sitting my arms wrapped around my knees, rocking back and forth a little, like I used to do as a kid. "Oh Bella," she said taking me into her arms. She comforted me for God know how long, sitting there rubbing my back. I had calmed down a little.

I pulled back and looked at her. "I need you to call Carlisle and Esme for me. The casket will be flown in tomorrow and then…" I trailed off not wanting to think about what I had to do after that. She agreed and left the room. I knew what I had to do next, even if it was a hard thing to do. I walked to the back yard where the boys were still playing. "Anthony, Masen," I shouted. "I need you to come inside; Mommy has got something she needs to tell you." They came running and tackled each other on the couch, which made me smile for a second. I sat across from them on the ottoman and looked at my two sons. There was so much of him in both of them. "Anthony, Masen remember when Mommy and Daddy told that Daddy's job was dangerous?" I asked.

"Yeah," Anthony answered. "Daddy's in the Army, right Mom?"

"That's right baby," I said. "Well Daddy's job got dangerous and now he has gone to be with the angels." I could feel the tears filling my eyes.

"Like Cassie's daddy?" Anthony asked. Cassie's, a girl in Anthony's class, father was in the Army just like Edward and had died six months ago.

"Yes baby like Cassie's daddy," I said.

"Daddy's not coming home Mommy," Masen asked beside his brother, his voice quivering just the slightest.

"No baby, Daddy's not coming home," I said, my voice shaking. A tear slid down my cheek and I had to look down, the boys couldn't see me like this. I had to be strong for them.

Anthony came and wrapped his arms around. "Don't cry Mommy, Daddy wouldn't want you to cry," he whispered.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and looked into his green eyes that he got from his father. "You're right baby boy; Daddy wouldn't want us to cry." I gave him a kiss on the forehead. And I didn't cry again, not for the rest of the night. Not when Edward's parents came and checked on me. Not when I took the boys to get ice cream after dinner. Not when I read them books and put them to bed. But when they were asleep and I was all alone in the bed I had shared so many nights with my husband in, the tears came again. I cried into the pillow that was on Edward's side, knowing that he would never sleep in this bed with me again, and that I never cuddle up to his sleeping body on cold nights. I cried for my sons that would never get to know the man that Edward truly was. I cried and cried until I fell asleep.

The next few days were just as bad as the first. The whole family went to Fort Bragg to watch Edward's casket return home. Family came in from many different parts of the country, his sister Alice and her husband Jasper from Houston and his brother Emmett and his wife Rosalie from Seattle, all offering kind words to me about Edward. My mother and father and Edward's parents sat with me while we planned the funeral. Esme held me in her arms while I cried away from everyone else. I tried my best to be strong in front of Anthony and Masen, always reminding them that Daddy would want us to be brave.

But today, today was the hardest. I woke up and fed Anthony and Masen their breakfast, just before all the family came over, dressed in black with sadness painted on their faces. Today was a day that none of us thought and hoped would come. My mother offered to dress the boys, letting me have some time to myself. I walked through the bedroom and into the bathroom and started the shower and as the water heated, I looked around the bathroom and let my mind drift to those many small moments that Edward and I shared here. Even the smallest thing, like standing side by side brushing our teeth meant so much now. I tried to let the hot water wash away the sadness that filled my body, but I knew nothing would make that hurt go away today.

I took my time getting ready, brushing out my hair, stepping into the simple black dress that Edward had loved so much, securing the strand of pearls, that he had given me when Anthony was born, around my neck, applying a small amount of make-up on my face, Edward never liked it when I wore too much make-up. I stepped into my black pumps and stood in front of the mirror, inspecting myself, I'm always fussing over myself. If Edward were here he would have come up behind me and wrap his arms around me and tell my how beautiful I looked. It made me wrap my own arms around my body as the tears started to fill my eyes as all the sudden I felt very alone.

"Bella," my father's voice came from the door. "Bella it is time to go," he said coming over to me and taking me in his arms.

The tears were coming freely now. "Why Daddy," I sobbed into his shoulder. "Why did they take him away from me?"

"I know sweetheart, but we need to go. Now wipe those tears, you have to be strong for Anthony and Masen." I would, I would be strong for my boys, if for nothing else.

The service, which took place at the Main Post Chapel at Fort Bragg, was short and sweet with wonderful words about the man and soldier my Edward had been. Then we followed the hearse to the cemetery where so many soldiers like Edward had been buried. We followed the Chaplin and the Honor Guard as they carried the flag draped cover to the gravesite. It was a perfectly cloudless day, the days that Edward loved so much, which brought a small smile to my face. I sat in the front, with Anthony and Masen to my right, Anthony holding my hand tightly. The Chaplin said his words and they started folding the flag. 13 folds, and with each fold it got more and more difficult to keep the tears at bay. A boy, not much older than Edward had been when he enlisted, walked towards me with my husband's folded flag in his arms. He stopped and kneeled in front of me, with the flag in his hands.

"As a representative of the United States Army, it is my high privilege to present you this flag. Let it be a symbol of the grateful appreciation this nation feels for the distinguished service rendered to our country and our flag by your loved one," he said as he placed the flag in my hands. 21 shots saluted my husband, each with a chilling boom, making me jump a little everytime. And a lone bugler started the first notes of "Taps" in the distance as I clutched the flag to my chest, letting the tears run down my checks. I looked around then, to my family that surrounded me, Anthony stood proud and tall just like his father did, while Masen tried to mimic his older brother. I watched my father's, one of the strongest men I knew, chin quiver as he tried to control his emotions and hugged my mother into his side, Edward's parents in a similar state. Alice, his sister, was crying into her husband's shoulder and Emmett tried to comfort an equal distraught Rosalie.

I turned myself around, facing forward once more with his flag still clutched to my chest. "I love you Edward," I whispered as the last notes of "Taps" played and I watched my husband being lowered into the ground.

_Services for fallen soldiers can make even the stiffest chins quiver. They are carefully planned, with riffle salute, tributes to high-ranking officers, flag folding, and, of course, 24 notes. _


End file.
